Chapter 2: His Voice

ISABELLA

"Miss Isabella, we regret to inform you about your father."

"What? Where is he?" My voice trembled, a knot tightening in my stomach. I never imagined this day, this feeling of utter helplessness.

"He's been arrested. Financial fraud." He sighed, his gaze dropping to the polished floor as if he couldn't bear to meet my eyes.

A gasp escaped me, my hand flying to my mouth. "No..."

Outside, the media just arrived; they look like a fucking chaotic monster who wants to get a hold of me with their blinding flashes of cameras. "Shut the gate, please!" I yelled at the guards.

"He can't have done that. My father is innocent. He can't." My voice was a strained whisper, a desperate plea to a world that seemed to be crumbling around me.

My knees felt weak, and I swayed slightly. Financial fraud? The phrase was foreign, impossible. 

My father, the man who instilled in me the importance of honesty and integrity? He wouldn't… he couldn't. But the captain's somber expression, the chaos outside, and the cold, complex gate all screamed a different truth. What was happening?

Then, abruptly, John's eyes darted towards me, a strange, hesitant look on his face while he held a phone to his ear, his hand trembling visibly.

The color drained from his face as he listened. Then he hung up slowly, his gaze meeting mine, filled with a dread I couldn't understand.

I walked towards him, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "What is it?"

"Your father…" He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"What about my father?!" I demanded, my voice rising, a raw edge of panic creeping in.

"H-He's dead." He said, his voice barely a whisper, a gulp of air his only other sound. John, my father's friend for years, looked utterly broken about the news, then he added with a raspy voice, "Heart attack… inside the prison."

The world spun. I shook my head, a desperate, violent motion. "You're lying! That's not true!" My voice cracked, a sob threatening to erupt. "He can't be! He just… he just…" I couldn't finish the sentence. The words wouldn't form. Dead? How could he be dead? It was impossible!

I ran to my room and locked the door behind me. I was so shocked that I collapsed on the floor with heavy tears flowing in my eyes. It was so heavy that I felt like I couldn't breathe.

It felt like a mountain of problems had just fallen on me, and I was expected to bear their weight.

The maid knocked on my door, but I didn't answer. After a moment, I stood up and wiped away my tears. I stepped out of my room, deciding to see my father. Even if it was true, I had to see him one last time.

I arrived at the morgue and was surprised to find Danica's mother, Jessica, already there. She was crying as if she'd deeply loved my father. Judging by her expression, I wondered if she had indeed felt something for him.

I put on my black sunglasses and stared at my father's body. I didn't want to show them I was crying, but my heart was bleeding. I wanted to lash out, to hurt whoever had done this to him, and to understand why he had to suffer so much.

Jessica wiped her tears and sniffled. "How can you just stand there without shedding a single tear for your father?!” 

I removed my sunglasses and stared directly into her eyes, searching for her soul. I scoffed, a frown twisting my lips. "Why are you even here? You're not his wife."

"I loved your father," she said, her voice trembling.

"I don't know what love is," I replied softly, "but seeing you here, I see nothing of it." I turned my back on her and glanced at my father's secretary. "Please prepare for my father's funeral. For one last time of your service, Mr. Grey."

The secretary bowed his head. "Yes, Miss Isabella. I'm so sorry for your loss."

I pursed my lips and walked away, refusing to let them see my tears. No one deserved that satisfaction. My father's enemies would revel in this, seeing the heiress of Sterling Company reduced to tears. How pathetic.

"My driver opened the car door for me, but I took the black umbrella instead. "Let me walk," I said. "I want to be alone. T-Thank you for your service." My voice cracked, knowing that my father's death would likely mean they'd lose their jobs, and with all the debt he'd left behind, I was just a debt-ridden heiress. How much worse could it get?

"But Miss Isabella..."

"Don't worry, I'll be alright," I said, offering a sad smile. I raised the umbrella above my head and began walking down the pathway. The weather was cold, and the atmosphere was heavy with sadness. A light rain fell, creating a somber mood, as if the sky itself were mourning with me.

But…

“ISABELLA!” Someone yelled my name.  

I gasped as the car was about to hit me but a strong arm, firm yet gentle, wrapped around me, pulling me back from the brink. His touch was warm, solid, a comforting weight against my trembling frame. “Are you hurt?” 

My lips quivered as I stared at the black car speeding away as if nothing had happened.

Tears welled, blurring my vision, and I couldn't hold them back. I wanted to open my eyes, to see clearly, but fear had left me so weak that I couldn't.

And then he said my name again, "Isabella..." He gently shook my shoulder, but I was too weak to open my eyes. Who is he? How did he know me?

The rain soaked my white trousers and beige trench coat, clinging to me like a cold shroud. Then suddenly I slowly lost my consciousness and my world dissolved into pitch black.

And the man who'd saved me... was he truly a savior, or had he simply moved me out of the way for someone else to finish the job?